The Shepherd
by Lauren Wagner
Summary: The Gathering: The one member of the Gathering played by Mackenzie Crook finds redemption his own way after looking into his own past.
1. Chapter 1

Once upon a time, during the age of the Roman Empire and the lifetime of a man named Jesus; there lived a shepherd by the name of Hillel.

Hillel did not have very much in the way of property or money, but he was happy anyway and every day he thanked God for blessing him with a beautiful wife named Bluma and a young son named Judah.

He himself had been blessed with fair looks and he often was forced to make some women cry when they asked to be another wife to him. His hair was like the sun, streaked with softer tones of brown throughout. High cheekbones made him look almost exotic and his eyes were the kind of blue only found in the ocean on a clear morning.

Hillel's life was blessed and filled with happiness.

Until the soldiers came.

A few days earlier, a Roman soldier had been ambushed on the road and killed and because it had happened near Hillel's village, the people were forced to live in fear as soldiers chose a random home every night and slaughtered all but one of the people inside.

Hillel's home was spared the first week of slaughter, but one night the soldiers came into his home while he and his wife were putting their son to bed, promising him that God would protect them.

They tore the house apart, taking what they wanted and destroying what they didn't. Hillel's flock was butchered and their entrails were flung around in a macabre kind of decoration.

They then went after Bluma and Hillel was held back and forced to watch as the Roman soldiers raped her without mercy, using their own bodies as well as various foreign objects.

When the Romans were done destroying the house and violating his wife, they forced the family outside to finish their business with them that night.

Bluma held onto Judah tightly, Hillel's arms around her tightly in a vain attempt to shield his wife and son from harm.

"Please…Just kill me if you have to." He pleaded. "Don't hurt my family."

He was grabbed by the hair and yanked away from them, falling onto his knees as he was forced to look up at the leader of this group of soldiers.

"Would you do anything for your family?" he demanded.

"I would…"

"Good. Kill them."

"No!"

A swift knee in his chest silenced him, and Hillel was bent over in pain, gasping for air as his wife and son were tortured to death in the street like animals before their house was set aflame.

…

Hillel lost everything that night, but he refused to lose his faith in God.

He had heard that there was a man named Jesus going around healing the sick and raising the dead in the name of God, and this man was coming to his village in a few days.

Hillel was relieved at this news, knowing in his heart that this Jesus would surely raise his wife and son from the dead for him. He had always been a good man, and he doubted that the man would deny his humble request.

When Jesus and his Apostles arrived, they were surrounded by a crowd of people, and Hillel was too nervous and unsure of himself to just walk up to him during this time and make his request.

He waited until the end of the day, when Jesus was being led to a home to stay at for the night, taking a deep breath before walking up to him.

"Are you the one they call Jesus?" he asked softly, looking down at the ground as he wrung his hands nervously.

"I am, but I doubt that the sand is also called Jesus." The man answered with a soft laugh and a small smile came to Hillel's lips.

"Can…Can you help me?" he asked, slowly looking up at him. When he looked into his eyes, everything seemed to come back to him and he started to cry.

Jesus looked at the former shepherd sadly and he placed a hand on his arm.

"Tell me what is wrong."

Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath to relax his crying before he then began to tell Jesus his story.

Jesus listened in silence, frowning when he heard what had taken place here and had only ended a few days earlier. No one else had told him about what had happened with the Roman soldiers and the people had in fact forced the victims out of their village, believing that they would bring bad luck again to the village.

Hillel had refused to leave however, and was now considered an ugly burden when once he had been considered attractive and a hard worker.

"I…I don't care about the property I had or even my flock…" he finished, his cuticles bleeding from all of his picking and fussing with his fingers. "I just want my Bluma and Judah back with me."

"You want me to raise them for you?"

"Yes!" he said, his eyes growing wide with hope. "Please…I would do anything to have them back in my life!"

Jesus looked away and Hillel's heart started to sink when he saw the look on his face.

"Sir?"

"I can't…"

Hillel blinked, and he tilted his head slightly, thinking that there was something wrong with his hearing.

"Wh-What?" he asked.

"I cannot raise your family from the dead." Jesus repeated, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry…"

Hillel pushed away his hand, shaking his head as if in a daze.

"Why do you say that?" he asked. "Why do you say that you can't raise my family?"

Jesus sighed and looked away.

"I can only raise those who were not meant to die yet."

"Judah was only four…"

"But my Father wanted him now." Jesus pointed out. "All of those I raised died before their time."

Hillel shook his head as angry tears started to burn in his eyes.

"You've raised the daughter of a tax collector, but you stand here and refuse to raise my only son!" he snarled.

"I know this is hard for you…" Jesus tried, resting his hands on his shoulders.

"Don't touch me!" Hillel shouted, attracting attention to himself as he shoved Jesus away from him.

"You're nothing but a fraud!" he said as he pointed an accusing finger at him. "If you truly are the Son of God, give me back my family!"

Jesus could only look at him sadly and Hillel left in disgust.

A few weeks later, news spread that Jesus had raised a man named Lazarus from the grave. Not only that, but the man he had raised was the brother of Jesus' woman Mary Magdalene

Hillel was furious when he heard this and his life changed completely. He no longer prayed to God and in his heart, he hated God and the man named Jesus.

He became a wanderer and a beggar, going from place to place as his heart burned with hatred and cried for revenge.

Jesus had lied to him, he was sure of it. Why else would he refuse to bring back Bluma and Judah, but then raise the brother of his woman Mary Magdalene?

The only time he smiled was when he watched children playing in the streets, but his heart would soon start to hurt as his son's screams rang in his ears and he would look away from their games.

He wanted Jesus to suffer for lying to him and so when he heard that he had been arrested and was to be on trial; Hillel went to the city where he was being held with a glad heart beating in his narrow chest.

He met up with a group of people who had come to watch out of curiosity and they welcomed him into their gathering gladly, giving him food and letting him share a room with them.

He had shouted out Jesus' name the loudest when the crowd was asked who they wanted dead and when the scourging was taking place, Hillel had smiled and whispered to the old man beside him that the fraud deserved every blow he got and then some.

As Jesus was forced to carry his cross down the streets of the city and towards the hill where he would be crucified, people spat at him, hurled insults at him, and threw rocks at him.

Hillel waited patiently, looking for a good sized rock to throw. He soon found one the size of his fist with a sharp end and he took it up and aimed before he then hurled it at Jesus' face.

The rock hit its mark and made him fall to the ground, causing the crowd to burst into laughter.

"Why did you do that?"

Looking over his shoulder, Hillel found himself looking at a young woman who seemed to be a reluctant member of the gathering.

If he remembered correctly, her name was Cayla.

"What?"

"Why did you throw that rock at him? Can't you see that he's suffering enough as it is?" Cayla asked sadly.

"Why shouldn't I make him suffer? He refused to help my family while he goes around helping Romans, tax collectors, and members of his whore's family!"

She looked at him sadly, but she said nothing else.

Shaking his head, Hillel looked back and watched as a man was forced to help Jesus carry his cross.

The rest of the process seemed to speed up and Hillel stared with wide eyes as water flowed from the wound in Jesus' side when one of the soldiers pierced him with a spear.

"But…how is that possible?" he whispered.

When it was all said and done, Hillel's anger had burned away as everyone but him and the gathering of curious onlookers left the sight of death.

The next thing that Hillel remembered was a painful light burning his eyes and a booming angry Voice entering his head; condemning the group for watching His only Son die.

The gathering was cursed from then on to live forever and watch people die. They would feel nothing, pain and emotions would forever be taken from them.

Hillel's punishment differed from the others' however.

In his head, the angry Voice scolded him for his blind anger towards His Son and that the fires of hatred in his heart would always leave him branded.

His hair was changed from gold to dark grey, as if it had been turned to ash from the fire inside of him.

But the Voice was not done with him yet and It softly whispered to him that while the others would feel nothing, he would be cursed with feeling sorrow, regret, sadness, and all of the bad emotions that He had given to mankind. However, he would never be able to express his emotions, and so they would fester and burn in his soul.

And so…The Gathering was created.

…

It was not until the year two thousand and two that an actual cure for the curse was revealed to the Gathering.

The only reluctant member of the Gathering named Cayla had somehow been woken up from her stupor and because she had taken pity on a group of mortals and saved their lives, she was allowed to pass on in peace.

Inside of his blank eyes and face, Hillel burned with jealousy and he wished that someday he too would be woken up somehow and allowed to move on like Cayla and Dan Blakeley (formerly known as Danyl).

He would find it through an unusual source five years later…


	2. Chapter 2

No one knew where the young man had come from and none of them knew why he was there, but after a month of trying to figure him out and trying to throw him out, the parents had just given up and some had actually taken to thinking of him as a guardian for their children.

He looked to be in his early twenties, dressed in a gray hoodie and hideously baggy jeans. His hair was short and dark grey and large black rings rested under his eyes, contrasting badly with his deathlike white skin.

The thing that had worried the parents was how he seemed to stare at their children, his face completely blank as he watched them play, a cigarette between thin lips almost all the time.

…

The first day he arrived, the parents looked at him with mild interest and some of them tried to talk to him and find out where he was from and why he was at the park and watching the children like he was.

The young man did not answer or even acknowledge that he was being spoken to.

The parents kept a close eye on him, thinking that he would not return the next day when he saw how mistrusted he was there.

They were surprised when he was back there again the next day, sitting on the same bench in the same exact spot.

This time, the parents tried threats. Any sane person would not even dream of coming back after all of the descriptive threats the young man received.

He was back the next day.

A police officer was brought in this time to try and drive the supposed pervert away.

Officer Anderson was only a month away from retirement and he was counting down the days. He had seen a lot in his years and he was more patient than most when it came to "odd" folks.

He sat down without a word beside the young man and he leaned back with a sigh as he took off his hat.

"It's as hot as Hell out here today!" he remarked.

The young man didn't even blink.

"You know why I'm here don't you? Some of the parents think you're here to snatch one of the kids."

The young man looked down as he took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Slipping one into his mouth, he paused before offering one to the cop.

"Nah! I quit those things years ago. They're bound to kill you."

The pack was put away as the young man turned back to watch the children, a match lit and used to light his cigarette.

"Listen. The way that you're watching the kids… It worries some people." He continued gently. "It worries them because of the increase of attacks on children and the like.

"Look at me for a second, lad."

Surprisingly, he did.

Officer Anderson stared into eyes the color of the ocean and frowned when they seemed to convey a soul that was far older than any mortal should be. Any other person would call them empty and without emotion, but Anderson prided himself on being able to read people through their eyes, and he saw hidden pain in those eyes.

A deep and intense pain, but not one that would make him hurt children.

On the other side, Hillel (for that was who the young man was), watched how Anderson would die fifteen years from now. He would be out shopping with his wife when a man wielding a gun would run in and try to hold up the store. Anderson would try to hold him off but fail as he gets shot in the heart, followed soon after by a boy of six standing behind him who screams in terror.

Anderson smiled, unaware that his death had been foreseen and he nodded as he stood up and put his hat back on.

"I don't know what you're story is and I'm not going to ask out of respect, but I trust you around these kids. Don't prove me wrong!" he said.

Hillel looked up at Anderson with his usual blank stare, and he then went back to watching the children, smoke drifting from flared nostrils.

Anderson shrugged at this before he then went to go and talk to the parents.

"He's not here to hurt any of your kids! He's just some harmless homeless mute. Shame really…he looks really young to be homeless."

The parents did not like this answer and Hillel was the target of various glares as every day he watched the children on the playground.

The glares and murmurs ended a week later when a man with a puppy leash came into the park and stood on the outskirts of the playground, out of the parent's view.

He used the usual ploy of a lost puppy and he roped in a little boy easily enough, but before he could lead him away; he looked up and frowned when he saw a young man with dark gray hair walking towards him.

He blanched at the sight but kept calm, sizing him up and finding him lacking as a real threat.

With a sneer, he took the boy's hand tightly and was about to lead him away.

Hillel was inches from his face when he turned around.

"How the fuck did you do that?!" he demanded.

Hillel just stared at him, his hands in his pockets as his eyes flicked from the boy back to the man.

The child slowly realized that he was in actual danger, and he started to cry.

"Get out of my way!" the man growled, raising a fist to punch Hillel, but when he looked into his eyes, he froze.

In Hillel's eyes, the man saw himself lying broken and dead in the street.

"What…What the hell are you?!" the man demanded, letting go of the boy.

Hillel stared at him, and the man's eyes grew wider as he saw an older man standing slightly behind Hillel to the left, his hands behind his back as he looked at him with the same blank stare. Behind Hillel and to the right, a middle aged woman in a trench coat stood holding her purse, the same look also on her face.

Their eyes screamed death at him, and he fled in terror; followed by the old man and middle aged woman.

…

When the little boy's mother finally realized he had gone missing, it was because he was running towards her in terror, tears running down his cheeks.

He ran into her like a bullet, sobbing into her shoulder.

"What's wrong, love?" she asked, shooting a glare at the seated Hillel. "Did that strange man hurt you?"

"No…The man with the lost puppy did!" the boy wept. "He tried to take me away, but the silent man stopped him!"

"He…He did what?"

The little boy was forced to repeat himself three times before any of the adults fully comprehended what could have happened if not for Hillel's interruption and the young man was looked at with a newfound respect as some of the mothers ran up to thank him for protecting the boy from harm.

Hillel didn't even acknowledge that he had been spoken to, instead taking out another cigarette and slipping it between his lips.

That night, the news reported that a man holding a puppy leash had run out into the middle of the road and been struck by a truck.


	3. Chapter 3

Each member of the Gathering had been given a type of death to watch for eternity.

When they were all together, they would watch a tragedy where perhaps hundreds or even thousands of people would die at one time; but in small groups and alone, the deaths changed for them.

Cayla had been forced to watch when people died trying to do the right thing.

Danyl was once forced to watch when a prostitute was murdered; a kind of reminder for him of his own sin for when he himself had once killed a prostitute by smashing her head in with a rock when she wanted three gold pieces as payment.

And the assigned deaths went on from there among the Gathering, ending at last with Hillel.

Hillel was forced to watch children die.

It was the greatest punishment God could have possibly given him. Every time he watched a child die, his heart and very soul would hurt, but because of his curse he was never allowed to show the pain. He could not grimace or flinch or even shed a tear for the children being murdered, born stillborn, or killed because of neglectful parents; and it was enough to drive anyone else mad.

That was why he was in the park watching the children laugh and play.

He did not yet know the who, how, or when of the tragedy meant to befall them, but he felt and knew in his soul that death had been placed over some of the children in the playground.

And he refused to let it happen.


	4. Chapter 4

"You shouldn't smoke, mister. Mama says that it's bad for you. You get cancer and then you _die!_"

He ignored the child's warning, merely tilting his head back and letting the smoke slide out of his mouth and flared nostrils.

"Hey, mister! Did you hear what I said? Smoking is bad for you!"

The little boy that Hillel had rescued weeks ago had now become like a second shadow to him; always following him around and asking him questions a mile a minute and without stopping. From what Hillel could see, the boy's mother was always working and so she was forced to just leave him and come back later to pick him up again, using Hillel as a kind of free babysitter.

The boy was an endless fountain of information about his life and he in fact lifted his shirt up once to show Hillel a thin scar that ran down his stomach.

"My daddy gave this to me. He got mad and hit me and mama a lot."

Hillel had a mental flash of the boy's father coming to the park to cause troubles for them all and if he could; the man would have shuddered.

As he slipped the cigarette back into his mouth, he suddenly heard the boy whimpering, and with an arched eyebrow, Hillel looked down and found him nearly in tears.

"I don't want you to die!" the boy wept and with an inward sigh, Hillel took the cigarette out and flicked it away. He then took out his pack and he crushed it in one hand before holding it over the rubbish bin, pausing before looking back at the boy.

When he smiled and nodded, Hillel let it go and merely folded his hands in his lap and went back to staring at the children playing on the play set.

The boy hugged him around his middle and Hillel took his eyes off of the other children as he looked down at him in surprise, raising his eyebrows.

"I love you, mister!"

Hillel was not sure what emotion he was feeling in his chest, but if he could speak, he would have said it was love for the little boy that reminded him of his own long dead son.

But he could not speak and so the feeling went unnamed.


End file.
